Higurashi kills
by HerLust
Summary: When Higurashi, Kagome wakes up beside dead bodies on an bloody battle-field, she knows this: she has to keep moving, keep searching, and keep one step ahead of the forces. Why? The death of her lover has left her alone, with little memory of her past.


Author's notes:

This story / fan fiction / material is © by Emie 'TripleRot' Productions. Any copying, usage in another story, used in the real-world. Is strictly prohibited. This story is NOT provided for commercial or personal use. It is meant for viewing only.

Some things I remembered. Some things I couldn't. Like who I was, or why I was sitting naked on a battle-field next to a dead man with silver hair - and other dead bodies. And yet I knew why I was here. I was waiting for the dawn to give them a final kiss good-bye before she guided his soul on to its next life. The breeze that curled around me was cold, as cold as the sand was harsh. And yet these sensations were a fleeting thing. Goose bumps might tremble across my skin, and sand might grate against my buttocks and things, but both failed to register on anything more than a flesh level. I felt no cold, no pain, no sorrow, Nothing.

It was as if I were dead inside. As dead as the people sprawled out beside me. Yet, for some reason. I was breathing and they weren't. Why? That was a question that haunted me, teasing the frozen edges of my thoughts and memories. Why them, and not me? I didn't know, I just didn't know, and yet I knew it was a question that was important. I knew my life might well depend on the answer.

I drew my bruised knees close to my chest and studied the distant horizon that appeared close. Though dawn had yet to strain night's cover, it was coming. Already it's warm power vibrated across the air, an eager humming that was both familiar and alien. I didn't understand the sensation, didn't know the reason behind it, and yet the mere fact that I could it had relief sweeping through me. It was frustrating, this not knowing. Not remembering.

I let my gaze move across the bloody battle-field. Watching the waves roll lazily toward the sand, seeing nothing out there in the vast expanse of red - blood I remember. But I didn't bother questioning why I was in a field of blood and brutally battered bodies of people I might have known, I rubbed a pale palm across eyes that felt like they'd cried a million tears, then glanced down at the body of these people. I might not remember my own name, and I might not remember theirs, but I knew one of theirs.

Naraku, he was evil. He'd made my life a living hell at his own cost. The need for revenge welled deep and fast and furious, until I was all but shaking with it. This Naraku would pay for this. Whoever, he was, he would dearly pay. For the fallen bodies, for me. And it was a vow that was useless until I could damn well remember who, exactly, I was and where this Naraku was.

I grimaced and returned my gaze back to the boy, with the ears. In the fading moonlight, his skin seemed to glow with a rich porcelain warmth, as if the sun itself still burned beneath his flesh. His lifeless eyes seemed to stare at me, at something on the side of my arm with a shocked expression, I looked over and gasped. A birthmark marred my shoulder, a spider like stain that seemed to dive into my skin and out again, until it almost seemed real around my shoulder. In the night, it took on a reddish-brown appearance and contained a sheen oddly reminiscent of hair.

I shifted and ran a gentle finger down the mark. It was bumpy and leathery compared to my skin, as if it were indeed hair. AN inheritance from this Naraku, and not my family. I blinked at the thought, then grabbed it hard and tried to follow it back. But the fog of forgetfulness snapped in place, and all that was left were questions. Yet more fucking questions.

I blew out a breath, then stretched out my long left leg as the throb of pain finally began to impinge on my senses. There were scraped across my kneecaps, and deeper cuts down my shins, accompanied by darkening patches that indicated bruising. But none of the wounds were currently bleeding, and there was no blood dried against my skin. I glanced at the field once again. Blood marred the fine soil everywhere. But still I had a feeling I and the fallen others were brought to this battle to defeat this Naraku.

I let my gaze follow back towards the boy with Silver hair, maybe I was dead to. Maybe this was nothing more than the dream of waiting that came before the soul moved on to the next life. I glanced down at him, I knew if I rolled him off his stomach, I'd see the deep hole in his chest. See the sickening insides dripping against the sand where his heart once ventured. I closed my eyes and pushed the horrifying images away. There were some things I didn't want to remember, and the way he struggled to protect her was one of them.

And yet, while he might have fought them to the very end, he'd done it for her sake Kikyou's. He'd never once glanced my way for any protection and purposes, he was a dead man that didn't interest me, so why did anything matter? I didn't understand it at the time, he'd said only her, and now I knew he'll rather die then live on to leave my soulless eyes beaming with happiness. The hum in the air intensified. Energy danced across my skin, a crazy tingling that warmed the chill from my body. As the understanding reached toward I with exuberant fingers, tears began to trickle down my cheeks. But I know longer felt anything - I was dead, as well.

"It hurts" I whispered, my voice croaky, hinting at long disuse. "Why does it hurt so much?" Then the radiance caressing my skin began to die, taking with it the underlying hum of energy. Day had broken. It was only those in-between times - first light of twilight - that held the moments of great power. There was nothing left of the boy with Silver hair, nothing except the stain of blood and organs on the soil.

I reached out and carefully plucked A lock of silver hair free from its resting place. In the growing sunlight, the strands shimmering in the lock glowed like mist. It had always sent a shiver down my spine, his hair despite the obvious beauty.

I closed my fingers around the chunk of hair, pressing the strands into my palm. I might not remember him, but deep down I knew somehow he was mine. I'll find someone, the same color of his and find the answer to my unwanted questions. And perhaps along the way discovering him I'll find reasons on who was I.

Because, it was an odd desire for such a silly quest who I claimed as a lover, nothing mattered anymore. I pushed upright. A dozen different aches came to life, and weakness trembled through my limbs, the sort of weakness that came from long hours of constant activity. My gaze went to the battle-field, leaping across the fallen bodies. Somewhere out there lay the answers. Somewhere out there lay my history.

But until the fog encasing my memories cleared, I could not blindly walk out of this battle-field and just start firing questions. This world was a vast and angry being, and I could not tempt to battle without a weapon in mind. It was a thought that raised my eyebrows, I might not be dead, but madness was surely a possibility. I mean, what sane, rational mind contemplated fighting the world. I did. Because I could, because I had.

I rubbed my forehead wearily, aware for the first time of the slight ache between my eyes. Maybe when it went, my memories would return. Maybe then I'd know what sort of person I was. Because whatever I was, it wasn't fully human. That was a belief I felt deep in my bones, deep in my soul. But until memory resurfaced, one thing was certain. I couldn't stand here naked and exposed to the world. The mere fact that someone had blown a hole through the man with silver hair was certain he wanted us dead than free. And that, in turn, meant they'd surely be looking for me.

I turned around. Rugged cliffs ranged high above the pristine sands, lining and isolating the long sweep of the musk. There were trails - paths made by the passage of feet and weapons over time, meaning this place, wherever it was, was at least reachable. Which meant there surely had to be some sort of village or place or at least a dwelling nearby. The first thing I needed was clothing - simply because the last thing I needed to do was attract attention.

I glanced over my shoulder, studying the man with silver hair and foisted his hair between my fingers, then resolutely made my way to the cliffs and the nearest trail No one but goddamn animals had been using that particular trail, let me tell you.

I was sweating, shaking, and wheezing by the time I finally got to the top. I leaned my hands on my aching knees, sucking in great gulps of air as I studied the surrounding village. The slope rolled down to a small cottage. The area round the cottage wasn't fenced, and the doors were sealed shut. I rubbed my hand down my thigh and kept on walking. What else could I do? I was in the middle of goddamn nowhere, with no idea who I was or how I'd gotten here. And no idea who I could trust, If I could trust.

As the slope flattened, the grass became long enough to brush my butt. Which in turn made me wonder if the grass was actually long, or if I was short. I felt long - long and rangy - but self-perception is an odd thing when the memory can give no references. I held my hands out and studied them critically.

I glanced down at my feet. There was nothing disgusting about those. Given their length and width, they could be described only as doll feet. Getting shoes had to be easy. The thought intrigued me for some reason, and I stopped to lift a foot. Thin, smooth soles. Obviously, I wore shoes with socks alot. Walking towards the cottage I quickly slipped in, when I did. I almost slid across the floor showing that the only option I had was that I was Clumsy.

I walked to a modern door, my footsteps echoing noisily on the polished floorboards. The room directly opposite was a bathroom, complete with an expensive mirror. My face was delicate and lean, with a doll nose and pouty lips. My eyes were what I would describe as 'Bug Eyes' the color of Dark chocolate, framed by long lashes that were as black as my hair. Under the bright light, highlights of dark blue seemed to play through the black, as if the fruit had kissed it.

My gaze moved to the long red scar going straight forward downward my eye (Think of Sensei off Naruto.) Someone must have cut me really deep. Deep enough to call a scar for life, despite it all the scar was gorgeous with my features. What on earth had I done to deserve such pain? For the first time since walking on the battle-field of bodies beside them, I felt scared. Scared of the past I couldn't remember, scared of where the future might lead.

Scared of the fury that lay waiting deep inside me. I rubbed my arms in the mirror, Inuyasha hair gleamed. A shiver ran down my spine, I didn't like dead men hair. I pushed it away and headed into the main bedroom. A quick search through obviously a mans wardrobe I finally settled on a fine silk kimono. The side was decorated with a long blue dragon that seemed to topple from my body. After tying a large blue bow around my waist the Kimono almost fit me. After hearing the front door open, and a loud roar I did the only thing I could do, Run.

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Sorry for the Cliff-Hangers kittens. Want me to continue - Review. First time writing Fan-Fiction. . .


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